Living with Mustang
by gypsy season
Summary: By the time Ed realized that he should have planned things better, it was too late, and he found himself practically a hostage in Roy Mustang's home.


Living with Roy had never been part of Ed's plan. But Ed, while an avid and dedicated researcher, was an astonishingly poor planner, and hadn't actually planned anything past get his brother's body back from the gate. Maybe he was just an irresponsible child, or maybe, somewhere, past his unfaltering determination and stubbornness, he had to have at least considered that he might never get his brother's body back, but whatever it was, a plan was never made. Ed never stopped to think about life after restoring Al until he actually had considered Al. But then, it was too late, and Ed found himself practically a hostage in Roy Mustang's home.

Ed and Al had both been unconscious when Roy had brought them to his house, and therefore had no say in the matter. When they were still there two weeks later, Ed began to realize that this civil sort of imprisonment would probably go on for a very long time.

Al spent most of those two weeks asleep, not comatose but too exhausted and starved to stay awake, and Ed spent most of those two weeks with him, either helping him when he was awake or guarding him when he slept. Roy, Riza and a doctor - paid a small fortune to be discreet - were the only ones who knew Al and Ed were there, probably the only people who even knew that Al was human again, and Ed knew this, knew that he and his brother were pretty much safe in Roy's house, but he still kept watch.

That first night, after Roy and Riza had brought the still unconscious brothers into Roy's spare bedroom, after the doctor had come and gone, and after Roy was finally able to bring himself away from standing guard in the foyer, he went into the living room, collapsed on the couch, and set the fireplace ablaze with a trained snap of his fingers. He thought about the spare bedroom and how he had been using it as storage space, thought about maybe going up and clearing out some of the boxes, maybe getting a second bed or maybe just letting Ed sleep in his while he took the couch. He thought about the brothers, about whether or not Ed even knew he had succeeded in getting Al's body back, as he had been unconscious since Roy had found him.

Halfway between dozing and sleeping, Roy got his answer. While the sound of a bare automail foot coming down a wooden staircase was not particularly distinct, it carried, and jolted Roy awake. He turned around and saw Ed, looking dead on his feet as he made his way down the stairs.

"There's needles in his arms," Ed said quietly, but still urgent enough to give Roy a reason to worry. His hair was loose and hung in his face, and his shoulders were slumped forward as he stood, lost, at the foot of the stairs.

"Feeding tube," Roy said, remembering what the doctor had told him. "He can't eat yet. He's not strong enough."

"Is he going to wake up?" Though Ed's face and posture remained unchanged, his voice wavered.

Roy nodded. "The doctor thinks so."

"Okay," Ed said, and Roy hoped that this was enough to put him at ease, at least for the time being. Thankfully, Ed just nodded and said again, "Okay."

"The doctor also thinks you need to sleep," Roy suggested. He wanted Ed to move, if not back up the stairs and into a bed then at least into the living room and onto the couch, because he looked like he was about to collapse. Even in the dimly lit room, Roy could see that his face was drained of all color, that his eyes were half-shut, and that he was trembling.

But naturally, Ed dismissed the notion with a shake of his head. "Where the hell are we?" he said, sounding more nervous than curious.

"This is my house," Roy said, and then climbed over the back of the couch when Ed swayed on his feet. "Come on, there's a bed upstairs."

Ed allowed himself to be led up the stairs, Roy's hand on his back. But when Roy turned left to go to his bedroom, Ed pulled to the right and went into the spare bedroom, where Al was sleeping. He dragged a chair to the side of the bed, and didn't move for the next three days.

The two weeks that followed were blessedly uneventful, time enough for Ed to recover his strength lost in transmuting his brother's soul back into its rightful body, for Al to wake up, and for the hope of returning to Risembool to seem so entirely possible that, after those two weeks, Ed gritted his teeth, thanked Roy, as politely as he could, for his hospitality, and wished him all the best in the rest of his life.

But in those two weeks, Roy had come to realize that letting the Elric brothers out on their own would be impossible. Ed's crimes - performing human transmutation and deserting the military- were too great for him to be able to escape the law. Not yet, anyway, as Roy was working on a way to clear Ed of his crimes. But until then, Ed and Al could not be seen. So Roy told them, gravely, that they would have to stay put.

Ed was not pleased.

As it were, two weeks was his limit. After that, he started to feel more and more like a caged animal with every passing day. He took to pacing, stomping back and forth across creaky wooden floors and rugs and the tile entranceway and then, only after much swearing and arguing, the grass in the fenced in backyard.

Large and expansive as Roy's house was, it still felt like a prison to Ed; and of course Ed knew that if he left and was seen, he would be imprisoned for real, and at least this domestic prison had beds and books and fireplaces and plenty of blankets and newspapers in the morning and decent food, but it also had Roy, always watching him, watching for god knows what and looking so smug, and damnit if it wasn't for his brother, Ed would have preferred an actual jail. So he gritted his teeth, and paced. For Al.

--

Dark gray sky, rain coming down incessantly, and a fire so inviting that Ed, soaking wet, wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch and fall asleep. But instead, he was fielding questions from an angry and equally drenched bastard Colonel, which was considerably less cozy and even less fun.

"Were you even thinking," he asked, dragging Edward in by his automail. "Or were you just asking to be caught?"

"I've gotten away with a lot worse than _walking down the street_," Ed snapped, yanking his arm back. He had kept his voice low the whole walk back to Roy's house so as not to draw attention to himself. He'd be damned if he held himself back now that he had the freedom to speak out.

"What about the part where you're supposed to be in hiding? Or the part where your brother is sleeping right upstairs?"

"Yeah. Sleeping," he said, with a hint of indignation at being told anything about his brother. "Sleeping, not awake, not needing anything. I told him I was leaving. He's perfectly safe."

Roy resisted the urge to snap his fingers and set fire to the boy when Edward just kept on pushing his juvenile argument, even if he had already exhausted his point before Roy had even brought him back to his house. "But if you'd been seen, then what? Would he be safe if the military took you in?"

"He'd have your ass waiting on him hand and foot instead of mine." But then he stopped, looking surprised and then guilty, probably not expecting the words that had just escaped him. In his haste to provide Roy with yet another counterattack, Edward had said something along the lines of being almost annoyed with having to take care of his brother.

Even if Al's body was his actual body and no longer a suit of armor, the years at the Gate had not been kind to it, and he needed looking after. Ed did so happily and without complaint, and Roy knew as soon as the words were said that Ed hadn't meant them.

"He's my brother," Ed continued, "and I'd do anything for him, so fuck you for making me say anything against him! But he would still be safe and that's all that matters."

"Not to repeat what I've told you probably every day now, but you owe it to your brother to look after yourself too."

"Thanks, Dad," he said bitterly. "You already know how I feel about my actual father, so you can stop right there."

"I'm not your father, and I'm more grateful for that than I can say," Roy said, suppressing the urge to cringe at such a thought. "But considering the state of things, you and your brother are my responsibility."

Ed laughed to himself, slightly unnerving in that he had just been furious a second ago. "Good thing I'm not your kid, right? That would be sick."

"Don't change the subject," he said, slightly mortified and feeling like a dirty old man for more reasons than he cared to mention.

"Stop acting all paternal and maybe I'd listen to you."

Roy had been arguing long enough, and he was ready to be done with it. So he took Ed into his arms, moving quickly so the boy had no chance to escape. Blessedly, Ed didn't struggle. Roy was tired, and was in no mood for any violence that night.

"I don't know how to say this in a way that you won't see as patronizing, so just keep your mouth shut and listen." He paused, both to give Ed the option to retaliate (in case the hug wasn't working) and to savor the way Ed's breath was warming the spot on Roy's chest where his face was pressed. "I still worry about you."

"Can see that," Ed mumbled into Roy's shirt, pausing for another warm exhale before adding a belated yet mild, "bastard" as Roy squeezed Ed a bit closer to him as punishment for speaking out.

Roy lowered his head so that it rested on to of Ed's, gold hair tickling his face. After so many years where Ed had been right there under his nose, only after the boy had nearly died did Roy feel like he truly saw him. It felt right for him, holding Ed like this, and, considering Ed's lack of struggle, it must have felt right for him, too.

So Roy saw no problem in pulling away slightly, so that he could tip Ed's face towards him and kiss him on lips that were already parted, which he assumed would probably have spewed forth another argument, had their freedom not just been compromised. The kiss was quick, and Ed pulled away to catch his breath all the same. Roy waited to see if the boy had anything to say. "Okay?" he tried.

"That's fine," Ed said, pulling away and making a face as if to say, you just _had_ to kiss me when I'm mad at you.

"Just lay low for a bit longer. I promise, I'm doing what I can to get things under control."

"Yeah, I get it. You're worried, want to protect us, I get it."

Roy rolled his eyes, but let it go. "So can I stop acting paternal now?"

Ed cocked a brow, regarding him skeptically. "I thought you just did."

"Don't complain. I'm still mad at you," Roy said, as if kissing Ed had not been enough to show that he really was done with his paternal responsibilities, for the night.

"Well I'm still mad at you," Ed countered, just to be difficult. So Roy closed the newly established distance between them yet again and kissed Ed a second time. Still, Ed was receptive but unresponsive.

"How about now, Ed?" Roy breathed between kisses. "Are you still angry?"

"Fuck you," Ed snarled, and lunged. But it was an attack that Roy had been hoping for, all lips and teeth and hands pulling and hips thrusting. Ed's hands eventually stopped pulling and started making their way down to Roy's pants.

"Damnit! Shit!" Roy swore before he could stop himself. "Fuck, your automail is freezing!"

"I was just out in the rain," Ed snapped defensively, turning away and glaring at the blazing fire in the next room with an air of embarrassment.

And then there were the other consequences for Roy to deal with. What if he had just woken Al? What if he scared Ed away, made him too self conscious? "Stay here," he suggested, not wanting to sound like he was trying to put Ed off - as if he would. "Sit by the fire and warm up a little."

Ed spun on him, his eyes still furious. Before he could speak, Roy added, "I'm going to wait for you, you moron" before mentally kicking himself in the ass for not being able to control himself. Ed was so self conscious as it was, but too fun to tease for Roy to pass up on the chance. And anyway, it probably helped Ed with how normal everything was: Roy insulting him, and then offering him something more. Roy tried to read the expression on Ed's face, tried to see if he had gone too far.

"Well," Ed said, his voice issuing a challenge. "What are you waiting for?"

Roy took it as the right time to leave, feeling as sure as he ever was that Ed would join him.

--

Ed was still cold, still soaked to the skin from his walk in the rain. His original plan, once his walk had been cut short by the angry, albeit hospitable, Roy, was to head straight to the fireplace, strip off his wet clothes and curl up under a blanket. But then Roy had felt the need to lecture Ed, as if he were a child, and then Roy had felt the need to kiss Ed, as if he were some lover of his. To make matters worse, Roy then felt the need to hold Ed so close that Ed wasn't even aware of how much it had warmed him until the bastard went upstairs and Ed started shivering.

So to spite him for the cold, and the lecture, and the kiss - especially for the kiss - Ed decided to make Roy wait. He left his wet shirt and jacket in a pile on the floor, also out of spite, and kept his pants on only to track water into the sitting room. He dragged what had quickly become his favorite armchair to the hearth, where a fire was still burning strong and warm.

Slowly, and with a sigh of utmost relief, he lowered himself into the chair, leaned against the back and closed his eyes.

And opened his eyes again. Because on the couch opposite the fireplace, he thought he saw two eyes watching him from inside the green wool lump that was supposed to have been just a blanket. And then the eyes blinked, and then widened.

Ed's mouth went dry, because here was Al, his poor, newly-restored, barely-sit-up-in-bed-without-help little brother, who had somehow managed to make it all the way down the stairs on his own while Ed was out, and was sitting - hiding, really - under a blanket like the sneaky bastard that he was, well within earshot of Ed and Roy's entire... conversation.

He just sat there, staring, and Edward stared back. Neither of them moved. Ed held his breath, and then considered that maybe, fucking please god, maybe, Al had been asleep, maybe he hadn't heard anything and there was nothing to worry about and it was all just a misunderstanding that Ed could forget ever happened and get on with his life.

But from the look of sheer terror in Al's eyes, Ed knew that there was no chance of getting out of this alive.

Deciding that sooner rather than later, since never wasn't an option anymore, would be the better time to address this, he took a deep breath. "Al," he croaked, his voice strained from fear. He cleared his throat and tried again, tried to sound sweet and not like he wasn't seriously considering hitting his brother so hard if it wouldn't probably kill him: "Brother."

Al's voice, muffled by the blanket, was tiny, terrified. "Yes?"

"You didn't happen to be sleeping," Ed said in an equally tiny, yes slightly more threatening voice, "were you?"

"Brother...?"

"You know. Taking a nap by the fire. A nice, cozy fireside nap for you?" Denial, albeit used as a threat, was always the right choice.

"I... yes?"

"What's that?"

"Well..." he knew full well that going against his brother now would probably result in his untimely death, even after all the work Ed had to do to bring him back to life in the first place. So he played along. "yes, I must have been sleeping."

"Oh, good," Ed said, not nicely. Of course Al hadn't been sleeping. Of course he'd heard everything! It was made especially clear from the way his eyes kept glancing at the door. Scoping out the nearest exit, despite the fact that Al would probably not have had the strength in him to run to one, was a sure sign of guilt. "Now how the hell did you get down here?"

Because as guilty as Ed was, so was Al.

"The stairs. I took them sitting down."

The thought of his brother trying to negotiate a staircase was so distracting that it took Ed's mind off the current situation and filled it with the fraternal concern that he was no stranger to.

"Are you hurt? Did you fall down?"

"No, brother. I didn't fall." But he was still hurt, Ed suspected, _pained by his guilt. _Better if he had fallen, then this whole situation could have been avoided. But no, Ed would never think that about Al. Damn him, damn Al, for making something as simple as kissing Roy Mustang so complicated.

"Good," Ed managed to choke out. He thought about Roy, upstairs in his bedroom, waiting for him. He thought about the kiss, about the rain, about the roaring fire. He thought about Roy. He thought about Al.

Wordlessly, never taking his eyes off his brother, Ed stood up out of the chair he had been in and walked over to the couch that had until recently concealed his brother. He sat down, still thinking of Roy and Al and the rain and everything, and only after a long sigh did he utter the one word to sum them all up: "Damnit."

--

Roy waited all night.

--

The following morning, when Ed came down to for breakfast looking sullen and miserable and Roy didn't come down at all, Al feigned amnesia and smiled like everything was fine and beautiful.

That night, everything was fine and beautiful. Ed made up to Roy for making him wait all night.

"You should say you're sorry for leaving Alphonse alone all night while you went stomping through the rain."

"Don't talk about my brother when we're in bed together," Ed said, disgusted. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Ed made up to Roy for that, too.

Al slept, for he was exhausted, poor thing, from waiting up listening for Roy and his brother. But he went to sleep at least knowing that there was nothing to worry about.


End file.
